


this has to be it

by spaceburgers



Category: Show By Rock!! - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Reconciliation, season 2 episode 11 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 01:53:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8825605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceburgers/pseuds/spaceburgers
Summary: Wherein things are said that should have been said a long time ago.





	

**Author's Note:**

> IM REALLY EMBARRASSED BY THE FACT THAT I ACTUALLY WROTE THIS FLUFFY PIECE OF SHIT BUT YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HOW HARD THAT ONE FRAME IN THE LATEST EPISODE MURDERED ME

He tells the twins he’s stepping out for a second, just for a breath of fresh air while he finds some inspiration. They nod eagerly, tell him that they’re looking forward to whatever he comes up with. It’s easy to slip away after that, to disappear through the door while the Plasmagica girls have their heads bowed over sheet music together and Shigan Crimsonz are busy arguing over something or other, Crow’s voice raised so nobody hears the quiet creak of the door as it clicks shut.

The BRRR studios are fairly small, so it isn’t much of a challenge at all the navigate the hallways, wooden floors and wooden walls and framed photographs on every corner. It feels so different from Judas—marble and glass and steel, cold and professional, befitting of one of the top idol agencies in the entire world. Nothing like this. Compared to what he’s used to, BRRR feels almost homely. Nostalgic.

Shuuzo stops in front of a photo of Shingan Crimsonz. It’s old, visibly so, but there’s just something about it that gives him pause. He leans in to gaze at the four separate figures in the photo, four matching grins on their faces. They look tired—Shuuzo guesses it was probably taken right after a show. Tired, but unmistakably happy.

Without thinking he reaches out, presses his thumb against Rom’s figure in the photograph. Rom’s smiling in the photo, easy and languid, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He thinks about when Rom used to smile at him like that too. It was a very long time ago.

“I thought I’d find you here,” someone calls from behind him.

Shuuzo doesn’t jump. He does not. It’s still slightly embarrassing to be caught, though. He puts his hand down, laces his fingers together behind his back. He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t think he can look at Rom right now, not in the flesh.

“Weren’t you writing part of the song with your band?” Shuuzo asks.

“Weren’t _you_?”

Shuuzo laughs. “Touché,” he says.

He feels rather than sees Rom step forward. He can sense his presence when he comes to stand next to Shuuzo, side by side, leaving a careful distance between the both of them. If Shuuzo moved just a few inches to the left, their shoulders would brush—but no, they don’t do this. This isn’t—no. This isn’t what they do, not anymore.

“We took this photo right after our first live,” Rom says, suddenly breaking the silence hanging between them. “There weren’t—it wasn’t the most well-attended show ever, but it was really fun. It made me really happy.”

Shuuzo doesn’t know what he was expecting but—not this. He can deal with Rom hating him, Rom wanting to hurt him, Rom not wanting to see him. But this… this strange combination of reconciliation and awkwardness is throwing him off balance.

“My first live with the twins,” Shuuzo finds himself saying, “I was so nervous I thought I’d throw up right on stage. I couldn’t let them know though, so I just went on with a smile, like nothing was wrong.”

“I watched it,” Rom says. Shuuzo blinks, turns to look at Rom. Rom’s still looking forward, so Shuuzo gets a good look at the profile of his face, handsome and serious as ever. There’s a look in his eyes that Shuuzo can’t quite make out; all he knows is that there’s a strange pressure in his chest that’s threatening to burst at any given time. “A video, I mean. I wasn’t actually there. But I tracked down some videos online afterwards.”

“Oh,” Shuuzo replies, his voice very small, because he doesn’t know what else he can possibly say to that.

“You were amazing,” Rom says. “You’re always amazing on stage. No matter what.”

Shuuzo’s breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t think he can speak.

Rom is quiet too, thinking. Then he turns to Shuuzo, and he’s smiling. He’s smiling at Shuuzo, soft and quiet but _there_ , and Shuuzo doesn’t know what kind of face he’s making right now, but the pressure in his chest intensifies, to the point that it’s starting to ache.

“You know,” Rom continues, “after you left I was really angry, but the thing is, I couldn’t decide who I was angrier with—you, or myself. I thought that if I’d paid more attention, if I’d realized how unhappy you were, if the band was different, if I’d just done _something_ you wouldn’t have left.”

“Rom—”

“For the longest time I couldn’t even look at you—I mean, you’re all sparkly and glittery now, and I couldn’t stand it at first. But I’ve been thinking about the past a lot lately, and I’ve only recently come to realize…”

Rom raises a hand, and for one stupid moment Shuuzo thinks Rom’s going to punch him. But instead he reaches forward, and gently, so gently that it makes Shuuzo ache, he tucks a stray lock of hair behind Shuuzo’s ear, his hand brushing against the shell of Shuuzo’s ear.

“I thought, _you know, blonde really does suit you_ ,” Rom says, and smiles.

And that’s the exact moment when Shuuzo’s heart _breaks_.

“I’m sorry,” Shuuzo says. He’s crying—he’s not sure exactly when he started crying, but now that he is he can’t seem to make it stop. There are tears rolling down his cheeks, and he can feel himself getting choked up, but he can’t stop. It’s as if all the feelings he’s been holding back for the past year are all coming up at once. His eyes are starting to sting. He thinks he’ll probably have some explaining to do to the twins later. “ _I’m sorry_ ,” he says again.

“Shuu—”

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I left without saying anything. I’m sorry, Rom.” The words don’t stop coming—they tumble out of his mouth, tripping over each other on their way out. He doesn’t think there are words for this feeling, this strange mixture of desperation and pain and sadness and somehow, _somehow_ (though it feels almost too dangerous to even acknowledge it) hope.

“Shuu, you—”

“ _I love you_ ,” Shuuzo says, the words leaving his mouth before he even realizes what he’s just said. Rom looks like whatever he was planning to say just turned into smoke. He looks stunned. Shuuzo does the only thing he knows how to do in situations like this, keeps on babbling nonsensically in spite of the panic that’s starting to rise up in his chest. “I’ve loved you since we first met, and I loved you when we were in our band together, and I still love you _now_ because I’ve never gotten over it, not really. I couldn’t tell you anything because I _loved_ you, and I couldn’t bring myself to say anything until it was too late, and I—”

Before he can say anything further Shuuzo’s being enveloped in a pair of arms, and it takes a moment for him to realize that Rom is hugging him. Rom has him crushed against his chest, and his arms are tight around Shuuzo’s back, and they don't do this either but Shuuzo thinks they’ve crossed that line ages ago—or maybe there wasn’t even a line in the first place. Maybe this is what they’ve always been gearing up to, but Shuuzo never realized it the whole time. Maybe _he’s_ the one who’s got it all wrong.

“You asshole,” Rom says, and Shuuzo can feel Rom’s breath against his neck. “Really? _Really?_ Now? After all this time?”

“I—”

“I can’t believe this— _dammit_ Shuu, you just—”

“Rom?”

All of a sudden Rom pulls back, just enough so that Shuuzo can take a good look at his face. Hesitation crosses his features for a moment, and then something else flickers across his face, but Shuuzo doesn’t have time to figure it out because Rom’s leaning in again, and then they’re kissing, _they’re kissing_ , and Shuuzo’s starting to wonder if this is actually all just a dream. They’re kissing, and Rom’s arms are still secure around his waist, and Shuuzo has his hands balled up in the material of Rom’s vest, and Rom’s breath is hot but his lips are soft, and Shuuzo thinks he might have stopped breathing entirely.

It feels like an eternity when Rom finally pulls away. Shuuzo’s lips tingle. He reaches up, absently presses the pads of his fingers against them.

Rom’s face is flushed. He’s gasping, trying to catch his breath again. His lips are red, almost obscenely so, and it occurs to Shuuzo that _he_ did that. It was all him. That _Rom just kissed him_.

“We need to head back,” Rom says. “But I—we still need to talk about this.” Rom loosens his hold on Shuuzo, his arms just loosely circling his waist now. It feels like they’ve taken the edge off things; a calmness settles over the both of them. Shuuzo feels his pulse slow. It feels—it feels natural. It feels _nice_.

“Okay,” Shuuzo says. Rom smiles at him, brushes his thumb against Shuuzo’s cheek again.

“After the festival’s over,” Rom says, “you should come home with me.” He looks faintly embarrassed saying those words, but Shuuzo smiles back up at him, slides his arms around Rom’s neck.

“Okay,” he says again. He leans in, nuzzles against Rom’s neck. He feels bold now, somehow. He feels like his heart is singing, threatening to burst right out of his chest.

“Shuu,” Rom says, managing to sound both fond and exasperated at the same time. “We have a song to write.”

“Mm-hmm. I know. Just let me do this for a little bit.”

A pause. Then Rom’s hand is in his hair, carding through it softly. Rom has always been like this, Shuuzo reflects. Hard and rough when he wants to be, but also unexpectedly gentle. Patient. Kind. Rom hasn’t changed, not really, and Shuuzo thinks he hasn’t either. Not really. Not in the ways that really matter.

“We really should go,” Rom says.

“Okay,” Shuuzo repeats.

Rom doesn’t make any attempt to move. Neither does Shuuzo.

He thinks he could stay like this for a long, long time.


End file.
